Page 37 of Landon & Shay: Part One

Dammit.

My mind was doing that emo crap it did on the daily.

“Do you want to sit for a while?” she asked.

“I don’t want to talk,” I blurted out.

“We don’t have to talk at all.” She gestured toward the chair across from her. “But please, have a seat.”

I sat, and somehow, I think Mrs. Levi heard the silent thank you I was giving her that afternoon. I was thankful to have someone to sit with in silence. Sometimes, sitting in silence with someone who is willing to stay with you helps a heart heal more than talking about one’s hurts.

10

Landon

The following afternoon,Hank, Greyson, and Eric came over to my place to hang out. They could always tell when my mind was heavy, but they never asked me questions about it. I was thankful for that. I didn’t feel like talking much. We all hung out at the pool, talking about pointless topics.

That afternoon, KJ showed up to my house at the request of Hank. My house was the main place for weed pickups, because my parents were gone most of the time. KJ was an older dude in his late forties—about Lance’s age. He’d been dealing weed to my friends for a while now, and overall he seemed like a decent person.

Eric smoked a joint on a lounge chair and looked up toward the sky. “You ever play the cloud game?” he asked. The clouds were huge and looked fake, like the clouds onThe Simpsonsintro, all spaced out a little too perfectly. It looked as if an artist had taken an oversized brush and added to the sky canvas.

“Cloud game?” I asked.

He placed his hands behind his head and nodded. “Yeah, where you see the clouds and shout out what they look like.”

KJ grinned as he counted the money Hank gave him. “My youngest daughter still goes apeshit for that game. Last summer we’d lay out in the grass for hours just make-believing the things we saw. Turtles. Dogs. Michael Jordan. Shit…” He laughed, shaking his head back and forth. “Those are some of the best times. My older daughter is way past that age, but we used to do it, too. It was great.”

KJ always did that, always told stories about his kids whenever he stopped by. I wondered if my parents did the same when they spoke to other people.

Dad probably told horror stories about me.

Mom probably told love stories.

Funny how you could be a different character in different people’s storybooks.

“That’s good and all, but can I ask why you are sitting in my house, with these teenage boys?” a voice asked, snapping me up from my lounging position.

“Mom, hey.” I rose to stand. “What are you doing in town? I thought you’d be in California for a few more days.”

“I took an early flight home.” She combed her hair behind her ears and looked over to KJ, who was standing there like a puppy being caught misbehaving. “I don’t know who you are, and I don’t know why you’re hanging out with these boys, but perhaps you should go now.”

He didn’t say a word as he exited stage right.

Hank put on a goofy smile. “Hey, Mrs. H. You’re looking beautiful in that trench coat.”

Eric stood from the lounge chair. “Is that a new haircut? It looks great on you?”

Greyson grinned. “Are you losing weight? You look like you’re losing weight.”

Mom smirked a little. “Goodbye, boys.” They all started to hurry away, but Mom stopped them. “First, hand over the goods.”

“But, Mrs. H! It’s for my allergies,” Hank joked.

She held her hand out toward him, and he groaned as he placed the weed into the palm of her hand. “Good night, boys.”

“‘Night, Mrs. H,” they all muttered as they left.

Mom walked over to me with an arched eyebrow and a somber look on her face. “Really, Landon? Marijuana?”

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